The Ruby King
by Virgin Queen 15
Summary: Sequel to The Emerald Queen: Jareth and his ghostly companion travel to a place called Lover's Tomb, while Sarah remains trapped in an emerald prison. Time is short and Sarah is starting to fade...
1. Chapter 1 Moon Music

Chapter 1: Moon Music

Scar's ghost was sitting on the tip of a large boulder, perched in the upmost of ghostly positions on the tip of his booted toe, one leg folded over the supporting one's knee. His contortion seemed an effortless coupling of grace and balance. He held in his hands a silver violin, and from its body he brought forth the most beautiful ballads Jareth had ever heard played on the instrument. After some encouragement from the specters' part the king consented to sing, on the up chance that Scar played something he recognized. As if the gods above were mocking the Fae man, Scar began to play the melody of Jareth's love song. He sang along without a protest. He hadn't protested anything as of late anyhow. Then again it was near impossible to oppose anything a ghost ordered you to do. The song finished and Scar continued to play softly while Jareth lay back on the smooth stone he'd chosen to be his bed for the night.

"Scar?" It was a soft voice that only Scar could hear. He continued to play but turned to face the slightly green fog of air that was Sarah.

"Hello, dear." He said and smiled to her.

"How is he?" She asked. She was leaning on her cloud toward where Jareth lay half-asleep.

"Ask him yourself," Scar said. "He can hear you in his sleep."

"Really?" Sarah moved on her fog to Jareth who as if he could sense her presence near him inclined her way and mumbled in his sleep. Scar turned away to give them privacy.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked quietly. "Can you hear me?"

His eyes opened slightly and he spoke softly. "I…Sarah…how are you be here?"

It was enough for her to erupt in joy. She let her cloud fall around him and she lay against his chest. Tendrils of her streaming green, glimmering magic flew around them in swirling clouds, blowing her hair around their faces.

"It doesn't matter how I'm here, I'm here." She said and laid her ghost lips on his.

Jareth could hardly feel her touch, while for Sarah even the soft gust of his breath on her cheek was like a flaming touch. Her body was trapped back in the emerald casket and she'd only just begun to soul-swim as Scar called it out of that body and around the world. For a long time she had only been able to see into the world around her until she was finally able after good practice to break from her body and mind and 'swim' through the sky. The first time she met Scar Jareth was off behind the trees bathing in a pond. The two men were traveling far into the unmapped regions of Underground and Scar refused to tell Sarah and Jareth anything. Tonight was the first night she had been able to talk to Jareth.

After the kiss Jareth wound his real arms around her and he fell into a deeper stage of sleep, where Sarah talked an endless stream of gab just because she wanted to.

When the orange Underground sun pushed the crystal moon down into the seas Sarah felt the tug of her body on her soul and she untangled her soul from Jareth and let the tug drag her back over the uncharted Greenland's, through the forests of elves and over the desert where she had not too long ago destroyed the Darkness. Her heart quivered at the memory of the icy blade she stabbed through her body to penetrate the personification of the Darkness, the doppelganger of Jareth. She had not planned on near murdering herself in the process, nor had she even considered what she was doing until she was pulling the blade back out of her body and she had seconds to turn and chop off the head of her enemy. The rest of it was a bit of a blur, aside from the conversation with Scar in the land before the Forward. There she had made her choice to go back, to hold on to that thread of life she still had flowing in the body she left behind. It was not a hard decision for Sarah, though upon later reflection she wondered if it was a hard choice for the others in her similar situation. Then she realized as she settled in the cocoon of her emerald body that no one was in a similar situation to hers. It was something to silently laugh over.

Jay greeted Sarah when he sensed her return. The hard emerald shell she was trapped in was set up in the master's chambers of the Castle beyond the Goblin City. Half of the crew was searching for the _Emerald Queen_, while Jay, Margo, Frizz and Scoot and a few others remained at the castle to guard Sarah. Though she could not answer Jay felt it was important to greet her, smile and treat her like she was still a living breathing girl. As hopeless as the game seemed he never stopped.

Margo was sitting nearby in the chair humming distantly while flipping through a book of drawing he'd found on the desk. Jay had been reclining on the couch on the other side of the room, listening and counting the whispering swishes the turning pages made.

"She's back?" Margo asked without looking up from the book.

"Yes," Jay answered. "A bit later then normal."

"She probably wants to spend as much time as she can ogle over the king, wherever he is." Margo laughed.

Both men eyed the emerald girl on the bed, half expecting her to jump up and smite them with her armed wit. But she remained unmoving, no change made.

"Yes, well love does things to your head." Jay continued the conversation.

"Makes you think a man covered in glitter looks sexy." Margo snorted.

"She would kill you for that." Jay said.

"I'm just worried what sort of damage her children will suffer." Margo said, hinting horribly.

"I don't follow."

"Well, wouldn't you be a bit disturbed if your father ran around the house in tight pants singing and dancing?" Margo smiled.

Jay smiled wisely. "How do you know my father didn't?"

Jareth was unaware of Sarah's visit when he rose in the morning. Scar thought it was curious that he should not mention it, but it occurred to him when Jareth stood and tied his black traveling cape around his shoulders that the king may have only considered it a dream. He had to correct that.

"Sarah did seem well," Scar said. "Or did she tell you otherwise? Women tend to only expose their true selves when under the pressure of a badgering man who loves them."

Jareth froze in the process of untangling the chain of his amulet about hi neck and looked up at the floating ghost above him. The specter's lifeless eyes stared back at him, like marbles slashed with faded grey-brown color.

"She really came?"

Scar only needed to roll his eyes for Jareth to understand.

"Are the dead truly so wise?" Asked the king.

Scar snorted loudly and the billowing smoke around him fumed thick and dark with his agitation. "Yes, the dead are."

"Care to tell me where we are going oh wise-one?" Jareth crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.

The ghost gritted his teeth. "I suppose I should," He smiled coldly and turned the direction they were heading. Pointing to where the sun was beginning to glow the dead elf began to whisper in a voice dry as the wind around them. "On the fifth day of our journey we shall reach a place called The Lovers' Tomb. On the seventh day a solar eclipse shall occur and in the process of blocking the light of the sun the invisible light of the emptiness shall light our way through the endless caves to Forever's Teardrop." He smiled again like this answered every question and explained the deepest meaning of life at once. Jareth swore angrily.

Jay found the library. It was a padlocked room that goblins weren't allowed to ever enter in. The key was not to be found but the pirate had more then enough experience in the picking locks that he soon made his way into the room. He planned on bringing a few books to Sarah, so she would have something to read when she turned back to flesh. Margo had argued at first with the old man against it.

"She can't read now and we don't even know if she'll live in that casket 'til the king returns!" It had been enough to send fifty goblins into a mad craze. Twenty yelled for the king in a continuous yodel of sound, ten cried for their mother', fifteen made a wall of their bodies around Sarah and the remaining five vanished into the Labyrinth.

In the end Jay went to the library and stayed there until a new night was born again.

Tiran had left for the High City. Repairs were swift; peace was born and Underground was serene again. The High King however was certainly not.

He hardly slept, never ate and refused the company of others. It was on the evening of Jareth's second night journeying when Sarah appeared to Tiran.

The High King had been leaning against the mantle piece watching the purple flames dance and lick the violet dragon scale in the hearth when a green butterfly fluttered through the balcony doors on a broken wing. Tiran turned when the shadow danced near him and smiled at the little creature.

"Hello there, little one." He said softly. Letting the insect land on his ungloved hand he whispered gently. "What's happened to your wing?"

The creature hopped about in answer.

"I see, well let me fix that up a bit for you precious." He paused, remembering when his son had used that endearment to describe his Sarah. But regaining his composure Tiran let a few drops of glittering magic spill from his fingers and heal the wing of the butterfly.

A crack of light and a gust of peach scented wind sent Tiran flying backwards. He crashed into the wall and landed on the hard floor, blood dripping from his lip.

He raised his eyes and gasped.

The room was alight with green flame and the ceiling shone with thousands of round crystals. In the center of the swirling magic stood a slender figure with long dark hair, a silvery gown and cat-green eyes.

"Good gods above!" Tiran cried. "Sarah!"

Jareth trudged over the mud covered earth. Floating above him Scar played the silver fiddle softly. When all at once he came to an abrupt stop Jareth turned to look up at him.

"What…"

"Shut up! Listen!" The ghost slammed a hand over Jareth's mouth.

He could hear nothing. And then it came to him. The birds weren't singing, the sounds of rushing rivers were hushed and nothing moved. Danger. The silence meant danger.


	2. Chapter 2 Silence in the Underground

Chapter 2: Silence in the Underground

Tiran watched the figure of the dead girl with mournful eyes. But there was something rather un-dead about her, the way she moved, and the way she smiled when she looked down at him.

"Hello, your highness." She said.

Tiran gaped at her, weary and clueless. "You died." He whispered sadly. "I killed you."

She shook her head and her hair swam around her face in graceful strands. "I killed myself, in an attempt to save Underground from the Darkness. I didn't quite die though; I was turned into an emerald statue."

Tiran frowned, his eyes never left from hers, and he could always sense a lie. She was not lying. If that was so then Jareth must have been going… No, he couldn't.

"Do you know where Jareth is going?" He tried to stand but fell back to his knees, a crippling weakness he couldn't control bearing a strong weight on him.

"What?" Sarah tilted her head. "No, Scar wouldn't tell me."

Tiran let his head fall into his hands. "No," He moaned. "I can't lose him too…"

The presence of the ghost drawing chillingly near him made Tiran jump back. Sarah was watching with earnest intent, as if trying to wretch the answers to all the questions she couldn't answer for herself with her dagger eyes. "Tell me," She said. "Tell me how you could lose him."

"He is traveling to the Lover's Tomb. Sarah, he's going to try and save you." Tiran answered.

She moved back slightly. "You didn't answer my question."

"I made a point not to," Tiran said. "If you were to know then all he would be seeking would be for naught."

Sarah stood, her magic swelled with her frustration. She turned away from Tiran. She was gone before he could inquire anymore. The King sat on the floor for a while after that, breathing in deeply, counting seconds, trying to estimate the number of steps Jareth was taking toward the Morta-Mira's.

Scar sighed. It was not a happy sigh, nor a relieved one, nor one of a positive nature of any kind. It was sad, drawn out and full of fear for the living Fae beside him. He could see with eyes far sharper then Jareth's, hear with ears much keener and what he heard and saw was not good in the least. The sounds of scratching nails, nipping and grinding teeth and the near silent howls of the Morta-Mira's rang in his dead ears. He could see them to; the reed thin bodies hiding in every bend of shadow, every dance of darkness there sat or stood one of the monsters. Luckily for Jareth, they were only children, too young and too fat to be called a real Morta-Mira, yet nearly just as dangerous. They would not eat the prey they captured but take it back alive, screaming to their parents to present their winnings. Scar looked to the face of one of the monsters. It was a female.

She was in all respects human like. Her body shape and physical design was nearly the same. But differences, subtle as they were started in the body shape, it was not nearly as fit and round or muscled as a humans. This one in particular was a good fat one, very near three pounds Scar could guess. Her long body was naked, as were the rest and she had no hair except for long thin and wire like tresses on her head that hung lifeless. She had a more rounded face then most, high cheekbones and a cave-like mouth that never ended and hung open stupidly. In all truth these monsters were stupid, however terrifying and strange, their brains couldn't withstand the abilities of speech or even pure thought. Her eyes reflected the emptiness in her, the soulless child she was. Scar watched as she sniffed the air near Jareth's hair, her body just a glint of shadow on the wind. He knew she could smell his blood, his last meal, and the traces of Sarah's scent that hung on his body. All Morta-Mira's could smell just about anything. Their senses were all physically adapted to enhance their nose so they could stalk, kill and enjoy the brains that lived in the heads of the foolish Fae that stumbled into Morta-Mira territory. All this was known only to the dead of course. Scar winced when she moved a bit too near Jareth again, who stood absently, unable to see the deadly threat. She seemed to like his scent.

"Jareth, we must keep moving." Scar said. "There are too many of the dead here." He lied.

Jareth sensed the lie but made no argument and did as the ghost commanded. They pressed onward. But Scar could feel the stalking hunt of the creatures on them and he tried to quicken the pace.

Sarah was in the air, walking, or swimming as Scar called it on her smoky path around her. Much higher then where she floated could be seen countless ghosts in the sky, moving and glinting with light and colors that Sarah didn't know the names of. She watched them from her jumpy post, wondering their names and stories, curious but unable to make herself move to reach them. Her tie to her body was much stronger then she liked, seeking freedom from it to speak with the dead was not something she was willing to try just yet. But very soon, two figures, surrounded by clouds of red and violet smoke came down to greet her. She smiled as the clouds blew from their faces, they were twins. One had spiky hair, orange eyes and had red clouds of death-magic. The other had his black hair scruffy and around his face in a way that reminded Sarah of Scar and the magic around him was violet along with his eyes. They had identical faces but very opposite expressions. She waited for them to speak, but instead of verbal speech the orange eyed one threw up his arms and smiled. The other raised an eyebrow at his twin and looked back at Sarah.

"Welcome to the Dead, how did you die?" The orange eyed twin asked just as the other opened his mouth.

His twin frowned and sighed. "Ignore Pollex, he's a right goon."

"Woot!" Pollex answered happily.

Sarah smiled, slightly proud. "I'm not dead," She didn't wait to gouge a response. "I am trapped in an emerald."

Pollex threw his arms down again and slumped. "Castor?" He asked his twin. "Isn't that against the rules to not be dead?"

"Yes, yes it is." Castor, the purple twin said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I…" Sarah blinked her eyes. She didn't have time to say anything, the twins started talking again.

"You see we're all dead here, doesn't matter what you may think…." Castor began to say and Pollex started up with his own gab and very soon Sarah was nearly ready to slap them both.

"Boys!"

The twins stopped abruptly. They turned to see two more billowing clouds surrounding two more ghosts, girls this time, two of them, both with long black hair and blue eyes. The taller of the two had eyes though that were a shade bluer then the other. The smaller one, whose face was longer and slightly pointed at angles, was intensely beautiful, though her eyes were not so blue.

"Clytemnestra," Pollex nodded to the taller one.

"Helen!" Sarah realized. The smaller one smiled slightly. "Helen of Troy."

"Sparta really," Helen said. "Seems myth has made it's way to even Aboveground."

"Your story was one of my favorites, was it true?" Sarah peered curiously at the girl, smiling uncontrollably. Helen returned the smile, but it was not a happy one. In it Sarah could see the reflection of sorrow much stronger then any she'd seen before. All except for the kind of sorrow she'd seen in Jareth's eyes. The thought made her chest hurt, if that was possible when you were dead….or half-dead.

Helen regarded Sarah with a kind eye, it seemed she saw the confusion in Sarah's eyes when her thoughts had drifted, but she made no remark on the loss of train of thought. She just continued with her story.

"In a sense some of my story is true, though the one mistake made is that I was never married in the first place," She cocked her head slightly. "So my relationship with Paris wasn't exactly a bad one. Sparta was angry however at the loss of the Queen, the king I was meant to marry was too. I suppose you could say the whole end of the story was a true tale… But there was more to the ending no one knows about."

"What is that?" Sarah was intent on knowing.

Clytemnestra smirked. "There you go Helen, telling another soul your story, why is it no one is ever curious what happened to me?"

"You're twins too," Sarah said, addressing the ghost. "But you were married quite young to a king of a richer far kingdom."

"And there I lived a peaceful life, until this little child showed up!" She pointed an angry thumb at Helen.

Castor snorted. "Peaceful?" Pollex widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.

The girl sneered at her older brothers and turned away. "Go on Helen, tell the story." She glanced at Sarah. "She'll want to hear it."

Helen opened her mouth and began her tale while Sarah listened, curious and attentive.

Scar was watching them. They were watching Scar, from all different places set about the valley they were camped in. Jareth was asleep, restless and weary, and his moans taunted the Morta-Mira near insanity. Sometime around mid-night the green light and dainty clouds appeared and curled up around Jareth. Scar didn't speak to her for a while, but waited for her to have her time with Jareth. When at last she drew her face to the sky and settled beside Scar did he greet her.

"I spoke to many ghosts today, heard many stories," She said, not even returning the greeting.

Sad for being denied a salutation but interested in what Sarah had learned he urged her to explain. But she couldn't speak, something was off with her, her eyes, ghost-like was they were seemed even more lifeless then usual and her lips were set in a tight line, her expression screaming with agitation.

"You know then?" He asked.

"Yes." Her voice was dry. "And I know that there is something you are not telling me."

He could only nod.

But before the accusation could go any further she stopped short and jumped. "What are they?" She was staring out at the wide expanse of field, lit only by their own light, glowing pearly green from Sarah. She was watching their white figures, counting them, he could see, measuring the threat they posed. She turned her head to glare at Scar, who cowered under the weight of her eyes.

"What are they?"

"Living Death."


	3. Chapter 3 Dancing Stars

Chapter 3: Dancing Stars

It was the fifth day. Jareth and Scar had wandered into an empty green valley that seemed as endless as the Labyrinth, the horizon couldn't be seen. It was a long trek, Jareth had known that from the beginning, but he was starting to wonder where they were really going and what it was he would have to do. He decided early on that for Sarah it didn't matter, but it couldn't be helped if he ached for a warm bed and good food as opposed to conjured peaches and rock flats meant for resting. They stopped for the night just after reaching the receding grass, where Scar said that down a few miles was the infamous Lover's Tomb. Both men were lying on their backs, looking up at the star-scattered sky.

If one has never seen the Underground's nighttime sky then there must be a brief explanation as to what it looks like and it's impact on magical beings. Some say the stars learned to dance from the Goddess of Rain, or the God of Lightning tickled them into frenzy. Sarah had learned from Jay that the star moved, if you watched them properly or were in a dark area. And it was scientifically true; the stars danced. Scar was telling Jareth of the first time he met Sarah and the first time she saw the dancing stars. In turn Jareth told Scar about her Run through the Labyrinth and how he felt so powerless around her.

"I don't think you feel powerless," Scar remarked. "I think you have just found that one person who you want to use your power to please."

"You know, you're right." Jareth said. He twirled a very small crystal dyed blue on his finger tip.

"I'm dead, I'm always right," Scar snorted.

There was a comfortable pause.

Then Jareth cleared his throat. Scar _hmnd?_ in attention and waited for the king to speak.

"I…. She looked so small," He said, glancing at the ghost. "When she turned into an emerald, I felt that everything was over. She's all I've got now."

"Yes, with your kingdom, your goblins, and your talents and power…" Scar said roughly.

Jareth winced, remembering the dead man's previous life as a vagrant pirate. "I only mean…"

"I know what you mean, Jareth," Scar said, his tone reassuring. "She is the only one you've ever loved. You don't have any other source for the feeling anywhere else."

Jareth blinked in response, unsure exactly of what to say. Nothing more was said the rest of the night, the two men watched the dancing stars, each thinking of the same woman, each wishing for the same eyes to see, the same lips to kiss. With a start Jareth realized Sarah had not come that night. He looked at Scar urgently only to see the ghost had realized it at the same moment. Neither could figure what to do, neither wanted to know if what they feared _was_ true. So, in agony they decided to wait.

Margo was the first to hear the crack. It was a small sound, more of a little _dink_ then a severe crack. But when Jay opened his eyes and peered curiously at Sarah the little sliver of dink turned to a great splitting crack.

"What's happening?" Margo panicked.

"I don't know!" Jay laid a calloused hand on the crack in the emerald Sarah, the split starting where her left hip was meant to be all the way up to her right shoulder. Then it all shattered and emerald flew in every which direction, breaking into smaller pieces and even disintegrating into dust.

When the explosion of broken stone was done Jay let out a cry so loud and so afraid the Helping Hands cringed in the oubliettes.

Margo stepped toward the bed and looked down at the empty place where Sarah had once been. "Does this mean…that she died?" His croak came out painfully and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as Jay had.

Jay didn't answer him. He was too busy watching the window.

"Jay?" Margo turned and saw what the old man did.

Climbing up the window, or rather, sliding up the window was the long body of a snake. Hanging from its mouth was a sliver chain, upon which, it looked, hung a pair of green eyes.

Jareth woke, the air around him was stale and breathing it was almost painful. It smelled of sulfur and wet rock, the smell of caves. He opened bleary eyes, had he been moved in his sleep? The soft valley he had fallen asleep in was gone, replaced with a dry expense, resembling the dunes around the Labyrinth. He looked up at the sky and noticed the moon, a dark shape through the grey-brown clouds, moving, inching sleepily toward the sun. Then Scar's words came back to him:… _on the seventh day a solar eclipse shall occur and in the process of blocking the light of the sun the invisible light of the emptiness shall light our way through the endless caves to Forever's Teardrop…_ Then was this the Lover's Tomb?

"Scar?" He called. He didn't need to call again to realize that he was alone, with no one to guide him and no one to look to comfort for. He sighed heavily, relishing rather then shunning the feeling that clung to his insides like a leech and he set about his way toward the moon, his only indication for navigating.

**I'm so sorry that it's this short, the next chapter will be longer, I promise. Please review!**


End file.
